Always Wanted To
by Stephensmat
Summary: It had finally happened. You couldn't face the cold. And I wasn't heartbroken. I wasn't weeping. I wasn't even sad. I was glad for it. The last bit of warmth was cold at last. The cold didn't bother me. And that was when I finally realized. The Ice wasn't a Curse. It was me. It was who I am. Everything else was The Curse.


I _always_ wanted to build a snowman with you.

That tiny, hopeful voice, full of excitement and wonder, asking me over and over to come and do something I loved to do, with the one person I loved more than anyone in the world... It broke my soul.

I used to tell myself I'd make it up to you. Oh sweetie, the snowmen I could build you. Big ones to make your jaw drop. Funny ones to make those tears go away forever. Hundreds of them. Thousands of them. Armies of them, all to make you smile. I could build them homes to live in. They could be dolls for us to play with. I could create gossamer wings of the finest, delicate crystal ice and make dragonfly snowflakes that swoop around like birds just for you. I could make us glorious diamond ball-gowns that float, lighter than air. Endless fractal jewels that reflected kaleidoscope rainbows. I would send sweet, light fluffy clouds of powder-soft snow; and gust them on a gentle breeze to your room. I could have them kiss you awake on fresh winter mornings...

And I might have done that, if not for the certainty that I would destroy you in the attempt.

I could get quite caught up in the thought. I made lists. All the things I would do for you. The lists got bigger and more elaborate.

And then I would rein myself in again. _Keep it inside. Keep it inside. Keep it inside. Keep it inside. _

Dad told me no. He told me to keep it inside. He told me to keep the cold down where nobody could see it. He said it was the nature of Royal Life; to keep what was real behind what was expected. He was looking at mom whenever he said that; and I wondered what between them could be as cold as my hands.

Mom, she told me to keep it under control. And then years passed, and she begged me to at least leave the room; even if I turned the whole Castle to ice, just visit my baby sister who would not stop asking for my company. I failed her both times.

And through it all, you just kept coming back for more. Dad told you I was sick. You believed him, until you didn't believe it any more. And when you decided that you didn't believe him... You still had to wonder why I wouldn't come out and build you a snowman.

I used to tell myself I'd make it up to you. I don't tell myself that any more. I couldn't make this up to you. How could I possibly make this right?

I shut it all out. My tutors were too scared to teach me anything. I told myself i didn't care. The servants were too afraid to come near my door. I told myself I didn't care. I didn't just make things turn icy; I turned all my ice inwards. Cold didn't bother me, so why shouldn't I be cold too? I did what mom and dad told me, and kept all that cold inside me.

Walls do something funny to you, baby sister. First they keep you in. Then they keep everything else out.

There was one spot in my heart that hadn't turned cold yet; and that was you.

And I hated you for it. You never gave up after so long, and every time you told me so, I had to make that light go dim in your eyes all over again. And day after day, year after year, you'd come back for more.

And I didn't have it in me as long as you did. The light burned clear and warm in you. It was already cold in me.

The first time I showed this stupid curse to anyone, I hurt you. When I slumped on the floor, back against my bedroom door, and you shuffling despondently away... just for a moment, I wish I'd hurt you more. Enough that you'd get the message. Enough that you'd stop loving me.

And that was the only thing that ever made me **feel** cold. I knew that one day you would stop coming back. The connection between me and my sister... _my best friend_, would shatter. Everything does when turned frosty enough.

And I didn't want you to stop loving me, sis. I wanted to wrap you in a hug so tight. Now if I could just find a way to do it without killing you.

I remember when you stood at my door and tired bargaining. You offered to do all the work yourself. You offered to find all the coal, sticks... You offered me your toys, your clothes, sweets, cake... anything I wanted, everything you owned, just to pretend for a few hours that I still loved you. As though sobbing alone in my room was more desirable than going out to play with my own sister.

Mom kept telling me it would go away. I never believed that. Dad kept telling me I just had to force it under control. Lock it up tight, and it would be like it was never there. That was his way. Mine too, after a while. Anything that we couldn't control we locked up tight. Including myself.

I didn't want you to stop loving me, sis. I wanted you to stop asking _me_ to love _you_.

Mom and Dad gave up. You never did. I used to love you for that. Now I don't. How many times do I have to keep that door closed? You tried to force it open once, and I... pushed it shut.

I was terrified. The ice had crawled across the door, across the walls... what if you were on the other side? What if the ice went across to you? What if you were an icicle on the other side?

And then I heard you try the knob again, and I relaxed.

The fear in that moment had cost me half the things in my room. That moment of fear, waiting for you to make a sound, and the ice had claimed half the things I still owned. I clutched at my gloves again.

For a moment, the frustration would rage white-cold inside me. I was sick of fighting something that came as naturally as breathing. I was hardly the only one. We heard stories of distant kingdoms where Princesses could heal wounds with their hair, or talk to animals when they sang, or spin gold when they sewed. I raged at the universe. If I couldn't be normal, why did I have to be _this_?

And then I would rein myself in again. _Keep it inside. Keep it inside. Keep it inside. Keep it inside. _

And then one day, the winter came, and the first snow covered the courtyard... And you came to my door. I could hear your footsteps. I had been listening for them. You didn't come running up to my room excitedly; you weren't marching with determination... You were shuffling, tired.

I waited for you to knock. I waited for you to say something.

And you didn't.

I remember I was holding my breath.

If I listened very carefully, I could hear you sobbing.

And then I heard your footsteps go back to your room.

I nearly fell down, I was breathing so hard. I knew what you were going to say. You knew what my answer would be... And we didn't even have that any more.

I never told you, but I made a hundred snowmen that night. Tiny little snowmen, all along my windowsill; and then I quickly pushed them out the window, as though someone would see them.

It had finally happened. You couldn't face the cold. The one warm spot in my life had turned cold with you.

And I wasn't heartbroken. I wasn't weeping. I wasn't even sad. I was glad for it. The last bit of warmth was cold at last. The cold didn't bother me. The only thing left in my life that could hit me right in the heart was the slowly dying love you had for me, even through a locked door.

And that was when I finally realized. The Ice wasn't a Curse. It was me. It was who I am. Everything else was The Curse. You were my Curse. I was Ice, and I was Cursed by this warm, wonderful love for a warm, wonderful person who felt warm, wonderful love for me. I was Ice, and you were warm, and love was warm, and warmth is death to Ice. I was Ice, and your love could melt me, like a snowman that saw the summer sun. I was Cursed with love for you; and now the Curse had been broken at last.

All that time, all those years that I spent raging against a cruel, heartless world that kept me trapped; and I was wrong. The world was mine to make in my image. Anything I wanted; I could invent. Everything in perfect geometric precision, just as I wanted it. And if I didn't like it, the world around me would change with my whim. All I had to do was take the damn gloves off, and it was suddenly perfect. The Universe had never created a snowman that could survive the summer. But I could. The Universe had never created two identical snowflakes. I could create millions of them.

I strode up that mountain, glorying in it for the first time; and I was certain. The Curse was never the ice that I could conjure out of thin air. The Curse was that I had held it back my whole life.

I told myself that I would make it up to you, sis. But I couldn't do that. I told myself I would make it go away. I couldn't do that. And at last, I didn't want to any more. And the exact moment I stopped needing you was the day I didn't need anything. Everything a person could ever need was suddenly there, appearing on the mountain.

I ran. I had no idea how wonderful it could be to just... run. My life was spent inside, in rooms with locked doors. I never ran before. I always had a wall in front of me, until that moment. When I started to run, I found I loved it, so I kept running, and when I ran out of ground, I kept running, and the air turned into endless, awesome crystal staircases under my feet, spiraling higher and higher without me ever slowing down.

I could tell the Mountain to grow another thousand feet, or to shrink back to nothing, as my whims dictated. If I disliked the sun, I could conjure a cloud so thick it would be pitch black. If the darkness offended me for even an instant I could create a crystal cavern so perfectly designed that a single point of starlight could be reflected on and on into an infinity of perfect light that would never fade.

I was the Ice and Rock. I was the Water and the Light. I was Form and Function. I was Crystal and Air. I was the Wind and Sky.

And to do it, all I had to do was accept that I would never need to share it with anyone. Not even you.

It wasn't as hard as I thought it would be. I hadn't shared anything with anyone for ten years, not even myself. I had spent ten years pushing away you, them, everyone... and me. I had been pushing myself into a corner for ten years.

Of all the things I had to live without, I had to live without my own self. And now that wasn't a problem any more.

I had been alone for as long as I could remember. Doing it in a universe of my own creation was **not **a hardship.

The first thing I made was a snowman. And then I started building a castle. Something a billion times more magical and wonderful than the empty, despairing halls of my father's gilded dungeon.

But that wasn't magic enough for my new wonder, so I conjured snow dragonflies, and sent them gliding on gossamer winds.

Make it up to you? I wasn't making up a decade of silence and repression to you. I was making it up to myself. No more repression. No more suffering because I thought I should. I didn't deserve to cry crystal diamonds in the corner. I deserved to be the Winter Goddess I was.

Freedom was my everything. I bound nothing up. Not my power. Not my emotions. Not my body. Not even my hair. I cast aside my clothes, my crown, my braids and let everything join the flurry.

I was free even from mortality. A normal person wouldn't have survived ten minutes at the top of an icy mountain peak; and I was the most comfortable I had ever been in my entire life.

I realized, much later, that it was the first day in my life I didn't think about how I was hurting you. The past was behind me, and it was yours. You never liked what I was doing with the castle, the gates, the kingdom and all those wretched locked doors. The last thought I had for you was the absolute certainty that you would make something wonderful out of it. It's what you do.

I had imagined it, over and over; day and night. I knew what I would do if I ever just turned all this wonderful magic loose on the world. In less than a day, I had conjured a decade of dreams into reality.

After ten years of torturing myself with all the things that I always, always, always, always, always, ALWAYS wanted to do...

And the first thing I made was a snowman.


End file.
